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"Papa!" Merlin let out a soft oof as a small blur collided into his knees. Luckily his reflexes were still sharp, which was the only reason he remained standing to steady her.
"Hello, little dragon," he greeted, ruffling her dark hair. She looked up at him. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Aithusa had his eyes and coloring, but her nose and mouth was from Morgana.
He registered his husband yelling from inside the house and he turned his gaze towards his daughter. "What have you done, Aithusa?" Suddenly, she looked sheepish and started fidgeting. He gave her a stern look.
After a moment, she broke. "Mordred made me do it!"
He doubted that. His son couldn't make Aithusa do anything she didn't want.
"Let's go see why your father is so angry," he said as he hoisted his six-year-old daughter into his arms. She squealed at the sudden movement but threw her arms around his neck. Thankfully, he was able to still carry her the short distance from the sidewalk to the house.
They walked up the pathway leading to the front door, Merlin using his hip to push the door open. “I’m home!” He called out.
“Merlin Pendragon!” Arthur came stomping out from around the corner, brandishing a football jersey towards his husband. “Look at what your children have done!”
He stared at the jersey. It was a green jersey, with a golden dragon insignia on the front. “I don’t understand.”
“This used… to be… a Knights jersey.” The blond said through clenched teeth.
Merlin continued staring. “Ah. How did… Never mind.” He shook his head, before waving a hand. The piece of clothing turned back into a red Camelot Knights jersey. “There you go.” He addressed his daughter, in exasperation, still in his arms. “Aithusa, what have I told you about pranks?” He let her down. “Go apologize to your dad.” Looking around, he spotted Aithusa’s twin peeking out from the top of the stairs. “Mordred.” With a pout, his son began coming down the carpeted steps.
Arthur’s irritation was starting to soften as Aithusa hugged his leg. Mordred came to a stop in front of him. “I’m sorry, dad.” The blond held an arm out to wrap around his son.
“It’s all right, just don’t do it again.”
Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s smug grin over their heads before he began heading up the stairs. He waved his hand again. “Merlin!” His husband let out an honest to god whine as the shirt in his hands turned back into a dark forest green.
“Love you, darling!”
--
Hazing was the worst, Arthur thought, as he snuck around the stadium, box tucked under his arms. Valiant wasn’t even that smooth of a talker, yet somehow had convinced Arthur that this was paramount to being included on the team. And like an asshole, he had fallen for it. Which lead him to now: skulking around the opponent’s locker room, looking for an opportune place to plant the box.
There was a shadowy corner that he thought would work well and he knelt down to carefully position the box, propping it open slightly.
The sound of the door creaking open made him jump, rising and turning around. “Hello? Is someone here?” An unfamiliar voice echoed through the locker room.
He froze. It was far too early for the Dragons to have arrived at the stadium. Quick, he had to think of something. A dark-haired man dressed in the opposing team’s away jersey—white with green accents—rounded the corner, stopping when he saw Arthur. He didn’t look familiar, but that wasn’t saying much, given that he hadn’t really followed the Dragons too much over the past few years.
“Who are you?” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked him up and down. “Why are you in our locker room?”
“A-Ah, just making sure that things are in order!” Arthur replied, keeping his voice light. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” He walked past the other player, making a hasty exit.
He made it back to his team’s locker room, to sneered congratulations from Valiant and a few other team members. However, fifteen minutes before they were due on the field, the door slammed open with a deafening bang. A familiar figure stalked in, rage and fury on his face, this time, though, holding a writhing snake with one hand, a firm grip right behind the head. There were shouts and demands for an explanation from Arthur’s team members, but the man ignored them all, looking around, before his eyes landed on Arthur.
“I believe you left something behind, my friend,” he spat, the last two words an insult rather than jest. Then he threw the snake at Arthur.
--
It was time for the twins’ bedtime routines, something that both Merlin and Arthur endeavored to participate in together. Aithusa and Mordred were both tucked into bed, Aithusa under her sky-blue comforter and Mordred under his dark purple one. They were debating on what story they wanted told tonight.
Morgana had dropped by earlier and Aithusa had convinced her aunt to show her wedding photos, as she had done for almost every visit since she found the photos on her father’s cell phone. Anything to prevent the tantrum she had thrown at not being invited to a wedding that was held four years before she was even born.
Clearly, she had romance on her mind this evening, as she eyed her fathers with shrewd eyes. “Daddy, Papa,” she started, voice sweet, “can you tell us about how you fell in love?”
Arthur was taken aback by the question. He looked to his husband, who looked equally as flabbergasted from where he was sitting on the edge of Mordred’s bed.
“I’m not—” Merlin began but was interrupted by a high-pitched please.
Mordred had started to drift off, but at the mention of love, he wrinkled his nose. “Gross, I want to hear about daddy fighting dragons!”
Merlin narrowed his eyes at that statement and looked at Arthur, a promise of extracting what nonsense he had been spouting from him later. “No!” Aithusa shouted, “I want to hear about how daddy and papa fell in love!”
“Indoor voice, Aithusa,” Arthur said, an automatic response to his daughter’s shouting. She definitely got her lungs from Morgana. “We could… do both?” He looked to Merlin, who shrugged.
“Very well.” His husband gave a small grin. “Shall I start with the story of how I threw a snake at your father?”
Arthur groaned. Not this again. The story had been plastered all over interviews and tabloids for the first few years of their relationship. Snakes and Football: A Romance Between Rivals!
After the incident in the locker room, Arthur had reacted poorly and had taken it out on Merlin on the football field, to the bewilderment of a cross referee and an angry coach. The two of them had been forced to give a dual interview afterwards, with a warning to “play nice”.
After that, they were inseparable.
Mordred’s interest was piqued at the mention of a snake, as he asked, “what kind of snake?”
Aithusa had a decidedly less enthusiastic response, wrinkling her nose. “Gross.”
Merlin laughed and reached out to tousle their son’s hair. “It was a grass snake.” Arthur was impressed that his husband remembered that.
“How big was it?” Mordred asked eagerly.
“I don’t want to hear about the stupid snake!” Aithusa protested.
“Language.” This time, it was Merlin who chided their daughter. “Or I won’t finish your story.” Arthur would have never thought that out of the two of them, Merlin would be the disciplinarian.
The look on her face made it seem like her entire world was ending. “No! I won’t say stupid again, please papa, finish the story!” Then she slammed her hands over her mouth, eyes widening when she realized what she had said.
Merlin let out a small huff of laughter at her statement and shook his head. “Very well, Little Dragon. Let’s see…” Aithusa and Mordred quickly became engrossed in the story, as Merlin told them how after the snake incident, they had been forced to make a few public appearances together. “Your father knew how to work the cameras and the journalists. He had been raised in the spotlight, with your grandfather being a politician.” He glossed over said grandfather’s initial hatred of their relationship—it was not the time or place to be slandering Uther, who had wised up and now spoiled the twins beyond belief.
“I took pity on your papa and we began to meet up more often so I could help him through interviews,” Arthur added. It had been contentious at first. Merlin hadn’t quite gotten over the prank that Arthur had played on his team and Arthur had thought Merlin a disrespectful little shit.
“I started to like your dad. A lot.” They looked at each other.
“Did you like papa, daddy?” Aithusa asked, reaching a hand out to tug at Arthur’s sleeve.
He pretended to think about it. “Not at first,” he admitted.
She gasped. “But papa loved you!”
“He said he liked him, not loved him,” Mordred interjected. Apparently, he was still annoyed about not getting to hear about the snake.
The two continued to squabble. Somehow the argument devolved into them squabbling about how a dragon could eat the princess if it wanted to and Arthur would never understand the thought process of his two six-year olds. He looked to his husband for help, but Merlin had a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. That traitor.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he clapped his hands loudly, startling the children into silence. “That’s enough. I fell in love with him later.”
Clearly the story wasn’t exactly going as well as Aithusa had hoped. It certainly hadn’t been the fairytale story that Morgana and Leon had. She pouted. “This is boring, I want a different story.”
Arthur looked over at his husband, who shrugged, a wide smile on his face. Suddenly, he was overcome with emotion. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would have this- a family with someone he loved so much and who loved him just as much. “Whatever our little princess says,” he replied after a moment.
--
“You’re rubbish at this.” Merlin looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone, seated at the very back table in the coffee shop, on a cushy chair that he wasn’t sure he would be able to get out of gracefully. Arthur Pendragon stood in front of him, hair still wet from the shower, dressed in a dark blue peacoat, with a to-go cup in his hand.
“Excuse me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re really bad at interacting with the press,” Arthur replied coolly. He lowered himself down in the chair across the table, a brief look of surprise crossing his face as he sunk further down than he expected, to Merlin’s satisfaction.
Merlin briefly thought about leaving, but he still had half of his matcha latte in a mug in front of him. So, he met Arthur’s eyes. “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours.”
Arthur spluttered a little. “We have to do interviews together!”
“So, you’re saying that you should let me do all the talking, got it.” Merlin wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t good with the press, nerves immediately removing all of the ability he had to speak coherent English. Arthur was a natural, smiling at all the journalists and charming them into writing praising headlines and making him the sweetheart of the football world. Somehow, he had even deflected any questions of the snake incident—instead, he swiftly changed the topic to the game and how he hoped to be able to face off with Merlin in the future.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. “Kidding, kidding.” He placed his phone face down on the table next to his mug. “You were… brilliant.” There was no other word for it. “Thank you for not focusing on the fact that I threw a snake at you.”
There was a red flush that appeared on the other man’s cheeks. “Well, I deserved it, didn’t I?” He mumbled.
Merlin shrugged. “You did. But it doesn’t mean what I did was right.” He picked up the small spoon on the saucer under the mug and began to stir his drink, watching the small green leaf that the barista had made with matcha powder on the top disappear into the warm oat milk underneath.
“Let me teach you.”
Merlin paused in his movements, mostly in confusion, partially in surprise. “Teach me…?”
“How to handle the press.” Arthur leaned forward; eyes bright with eagerness. It made him look a bit like a golden retriever, much to Merlin’s amusement.
He took a moment to process Arthur’s proposal. “How do you even learn something like that?”
Arthur smiled. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, young padawan.”
Merlin stared at him. “Fine.” He ignored the little voice in his head that was screaming about how attractive Arthur was, as his grin grew wider. “But you have to tell me what a padawan is.”
--
It was a quiet Saturday morning, with no children yelling and screaming, and they were taking full advantage of the momentary peace. Merlin was straddling Arthur, pressing languid kisses down his husband’s neck, pausing occasionally to nip at the skin and leaving small red marks. Arthur had his hands on Merlin’s hips, running his thumbs lightly under the waistband of his boxers.
“Merlin,” he murmured.
Merlin leaned back to ask, with a grin, “yes, my dear?”
In one fluid movement, Arthur rolled them over, eliciting a small yelp from the other as his head hit the pillow. “You’re teasing,” he breathed out, before diving down to kiss Merlin, moving his hands over his torso.
That was when the doorbell rang and Aithusa and Mordred’s voices started shrieking. Arthur let his full body collapse on top of his husband, letting out a small groan in resignment.
Merlin flailed a little at the sudden weight on him. “Get off, you’re heavy.”
“No.” He buried his face against the side of Merlin’s neck. “I’m staying here forever.”
“Come on, love.” Merlin poked him in the ribcage, making Arthur whine even more. “You don’t want Morgana or the kids walking in like this.”
He hated when his husband was right.
After getting dressed and presentable, they went downstairs, where Morgana was sitting at the kitchen table with the kids, munching on pastries that she must have brought with her.
“Good morning, you two,” she greeted, in amusement.
Arthur had to resist from replying with a middle finger. Impressionable young children and all that. The knowing smirk she gave him indicated that she knew exactly what he was thinking.
He did it anyways when the twins were distracted, Merlin asking them if they wanted milk or juice from where he was standing by the refrigerator. She responded by sticking her tongue out at him.
Merlin came over with the kids’ plastic cups in his hands and caught the end of their exchange. “Children, the two of you,” he muttered shaking his head at his husband and sister-in-law.
Aithusa and Mordred both took the cups carefully with both hands, with a chorus of “thanks papa!”
“You two are so well-behaved,” Morgana commented fondly. “More than your father was at this age.”.
Arthur was about to protest, but Merlin cut in with a “coffee or tea, Morgs?” and a warning glare. He snapped his mouth shut.
Clearly, she knew what she was doing, as she shot him a smug glance, before replying with, “coffee, thanks Merlin.”
At this point, the kids had finished their pastries and were now wiggling in their chairs, eagerly waiting to either be dismissed or for Morgana to give them the presents she always brought with her. Arthur secretly thought that it was all a ploy to get them to love her most, but when he said as much to Merlin, he had shaken his head and said, “she literally gave birth to them, and they’re her only niblings. Let her spoil them a bit.”
“You can go watch some cartoons but only for half an hour,” Arthur told them, taking pity. There was some pouting, likely from the lack of presents so far.
“Don’t pout, children. Your presents are in the living room.” At Morgana’s words, their eyes grew wide. “Walk. Not run,” she said, seeing that they were about to break out into a dead sprint.
“Okay!” was the simultaneous response.
“Wait,” Arthur said sternly. “What do you say to your Aunt Morgana?”
The twins looked up at Morgana. “Thank you, Auntie Gana!”
She waved them off and they practically bounced to the living room, skirting the line of ‘not running’ that Morgana had set.
“What did you get them this time?” Arthur asked her, as shrieks of delight came from the living room.
“Mordred asked for a potions set and Aithusa wanted a scrying mirror.” At her brother’s frown, she added, “I checked with Merlin. They’re appropriate for their age.”
Sometimes, he did feel that being the only non-magic user in the household was lonely and was worried about how that would affect his relationship with the kids as they got older, but Merlin had pointed out that he had grown up with a non-magical parent, which had assuaged Arthur’s concerns slightly. A problem for later, he thought.
Merlin returned, precariously balancing three mugs in his hands, slowly shuffling over to the table. When he realized that his husband was struggling, Arthur stood and hurried over to take two of the mugs.
“Thanks, love,” Merlin said with a smile. “Best Dad Ever mug is yours. Other one’s mine.” He placed the mug in his hands in front of Morgana before finally sitting.
“So, I see that Aithusa was wearing a Knights jersey and Mordred had a Dragons jersey on.” Morgana waited for Merlin to finish taking a sip of tea before continuing. “Trouble in paradise?”
Despite her consideration, Merlin was still taken aback, as he turned red and began coughing. After a few moments, he managed to get himself under control and he looked at her. “What do you mean by that?” His voice was slightly hoarse.
“Splitting the kids up to keep the peace,” she laughed.
“Morgana, it’s nothing of that sort,” Arthur replied wearily. He loved his sister, he really did, but sometimes she tried his patience. “It was… a compromise that Merlin and I came to.”
Eagerly, she leaned forward. “Do tell.”
“You remember when I asked you about fencing lessons for the twins, and you said they were still too young?” Arthur waited for her to nod. “Well, we went a little far with bribing the kids to support our teams during matches.”
Her green eyes widened in delight, and she turned to Merlin. “Was that when you asked about taking them to the dragon sanctuary for private rides?”
He nodded sheepishly, eliciting peals of laughter from her.
Arthur glanced at Merlin petulantly. “You asked my sister for help?”
He shrugged. “She became my sister too when you married me.”
Morgana looked pleased at Merlin’s words and Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to be too annoyed. “She was my sister first,” he shot back.
“And yet I’m her favorite brother.” He grinned.
“Boys, boys, boys.” Morgana shook her head. “You’re both my favorite, okay? But I would sell you both for one tortilla chip if it made the twins happy.”
Arthur had to concede that that was fair.
--
It had all happened in slow motion. One moment, Merlin had been running, dribbling the ball between his feet down the field. The next, one of the opposing players had slid into him, causing him to go down. Hard. From where he was sitting, Arthur couldn’t clearly see Merlin’s expression, but when he looked up at the large screen above their heads, he could see his friend’s face frozen in a grimace. The referees blew a whistle, stopping the clock and the game temporarily. Merlin’s teammates all began to jog across the field towards where he had fallen, as he attempted to stand, but collapsed before he could fully get up.
Arthur held his breath. He wanted to run out onto the field. He wanted…
One of the referees yelled for a medic.
Merlin was supported off the field by his teammates, right leg held in the air. He disappeared from sight.
Arthur didn’t care about the rest of the game. He stood from his seat, to the displeasure of the fans around him, as he squeezed past the knees of everyone else sitting in the row. Once he was free, he headed towards the inside of the stadium, to where he knew the small medical room was.
He knocked.
The door opened to reveal a disgruntled medic—she looked familiar, but Arthur couldn’t quite place her name. “What do you want?” She asked, a bit rudely. Arthur supposed that in his current outfit, he looked like just another fan, so he removed the cap and mask. Her expression changed to one of surprise. “Pendragon?”
“Is Merlin here?” He asked, placing the mask back on, but keeping the cap off, ruffling his hair back in place.
Her gaze was scrutinizing. A familiar voice called out from inside the room, “It’s all right, Alice. You can let the prat in.”
Merlin. Arthur’s heart leapt into his throat. He sounded alright, fine enough to be insulting Arthur, which was a relief, but until he saw him himself, he wasn’t going to make assumptions.
The medic rolled her eyes before standing aside. “Come in before someone sees you.”
As he walked into the room, he saw that it was just Merlin and Alice. Merlin waved from where he was sitting on the cot. “Hi Arthur.” His leg was propped up, an ice pack wrapped around it.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, standing awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, to prevent himself from doing something stupid, like reaching out and smoothing down the cowlick in Merlin’s hair.
“Yeah, it’s just a bit of a sprain. Maddock felt bad about what happened. It happens. Part of the game and all that.”
Arthur didn’t understand how Merlin could be so calm about an injury.
“I need to step out for a moment, dears,” Alice said suddenly. “I’ll be back.” The two of them didn’t have the chance to react before the door swung closed behind her.
A tense silence fell. It reminded Arthur of so many stilted family dinners growing up that he couldn’t stand it. “So, uh. You played well.”
Merlin snorted. “For the first ten minutes before I was taken out?”
“Y-Yes.” Maybe coming here had been a mistake. He could have just waited until after the game.
“Come sit down, Arthur.” Merlin urged, patting the space next to him. “What are you doing here?” He asked, echoing the question that was bouncing around in Arthur’s head.
“I… I’m not sure,” he admitted, reluctantly. “I saw you go down and I just… had to come make sure you were alright.”
“You’re sweet,” Merlin laughed. “It’s not everyday that I have a handsome man running to my side.”
Arthur stilled at that comment, mortified and confused. He couldn’t understand his motivations for leaving the middle of the game to come to see Merlin. “I… we’re… we’re friends, right?” The words sounded as baffled as he felt. He would have done the same for any of his friends. That’s what friends were for.
Merlin watched him appraisingly, before he swung his leg off the bed to turn his body and the next thing Arthur knew, there was a hand at the nape of his neck and there were lips being pressed to his.
His brain shut down. He didn’t know if he wanted to move away or to grip Merlin closer. The woodsy scent of Merlin’s shampoo filled his senses, making him feel a bit like he was floating. After what felt like hours, but may have only been a few seconds, Merlin drew back. His eyes were shining.
“W-What was that for?” Arthur asked, stunned.
Merlin’s smile faded. “Did you… Oh. I’m…” He flushed and suddenly looked like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.” He looked away.
“Merlin…” Arthur wanted to reach out to comfort him, but he just… couldn’t. He felt a little like he wanted to cry as well. “I…” What was he supposed to say?
“Could you… just leave?” His voice was as miserable as Arthur had ever heard it and it hurt. “Just… I’m sorry. I need to be alone.”
That was a request that he was eager to follow, if only to escape with his dignity intact before he did something stupid, like kiss Merlin back. The hollow feeling in his chest grew as he gingerly closed the door. He couldn’t do anything but stare, wondering what was going through Merlin’s mind in that moment. What was he to do now?
--
“Mordred, over here!” Merlin called out, as his son carefully dribbled the ball over to him, avoiding his father, who was attempting to ‘stea’l the ball, as dictated by Aithusa. When Mordred reached him, he cheered. “Okay, now your goal is to get it in the net.” The six-year-old leaned down and picked the ball up.
Ever so helpful, Aithusa yelled, “with your feet, silly!” from where she was across the lawn, making Arthur give her a piggyback ride, having lost interest in football long ago.
Mordred frowned but put the ball down. “But it’s so far,” he said dubiously, looking at where the net was.
“You can move closer,” he said encouragingly.
His face set in determination, he nodded and began to move towards the goal. When he was close enough, he kicked the ball with all the strength he could muster, and slowly, it crossed the line over the net. “Papa, I did it!” He yelled, turning around, and running full force into Merlin. Caught off balance, he let himself fall backwards, splaying out in the grass.
“Oh no, you’ve killed Papa!” He declared loudly, closing his eyes, and placing his hand on his forehead dramatically. “Only true love’s kiss can bring me back to life now!”
Mordred looked a little alarmed. “Daddy, daddy, I need your help!”
At the mention of true love’s kiss, Aithusa’s head had swiveled over to Merlin and Mordred. “Daddy, daddy!” Arthur obliged, walking over and letting her down. She looked over at Merlin, seemingly searching for something—for what, he wasn’t sure, but she apparently found it as she turned around to look up at him. “Daddy, you have to kiss papa,” she said, imperiously, looking much like Morgana did at six.
“Do I now?” He asked.
“Yes!” She yelled, hugging his leg. “You have to save papa!”
Inspiration struck. “But what if… I’m the big bad dragon?” He reached down and grabbed both his kids and began to tickle them. They shrieked and laughed, letting out protests. “And what if… I eat little girls?” He lifted Aithusa and began to pretend to nibble at her.
“No! Daddy, no!”
“I’ll save you, Thusa!” Mordred ran to the storage bin at the foot of the stairs to the deck and rummaged through it before appearing with a foam sword. “En garde!” He yelled, before beginning to hit Arthur with it.
He played along, falling to his knees, careful to not jostle Aithusa too much, before releasing her and falling to the ground. “You’ve slain the dragon and saved the princess!” He groaned out, before twisting and falling face up onto the grass, right near where Merlin was still lying, watching them through slitted eyes. “The dragon is changing and what’s this? He was your daddy all along!”
The kids’ eyes widened. “How do we save daddy and papa?” Mordred whispered to Aithusa.
She thought for a second, before turning to him, cupping her hands around her mouth to say something into his ear.
After she drew away, Mordred considered her idea before nodding. They approached their fathers. Arthur knew he shouldn’t have been nervous, but… he was a little nervous. That was, until Mordred went up to him and Aithusa went up to Merlin and simultaneously, after the most adorable countdown, they planted kisses on each of their cheeks.
Merlin opened his eyes with a gasp. “I live!” He cried out, sitting up. Arthur followed suit. “All thanks to Princess Aithusa and Prince Mordred!” Aithusa wrapped her arms around his neck. He enveloped her in a hug.
Arthur noticed Mordred edging closer to him, almost nervously. “Come here, Mordred.” He held his arms out, to his son’s evident relief. The warm weight of the child in his arms made him happier than he thought he could ever be.
Merlin was watching them, a soft dopey smile on his face. Arthur grinned back, basking in this moment for a minute, committing it to memory, before he broke the peace by asking the kids what they wanted for dinner.
--
Merlin’s phone pinged.
Merlin, are you home? I’m coming over.
All he could do was stare at the screen, flashing with that text message from Arthur. He was home, but he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to get his heart broken while in his flat, surrounded by memories of their time together as friends. One of Arthur’s Camelot Knights hoodies was still draped over the back of the couch from last time they had done a movie marathon.
Reluctantly, he responded.
Yes, I’m home.
He was startled when his doorbell began to ring. He shook his head and huffed out a laugh. Arthur must have been waiting outside.
He opened the door to find his suspicions confirmed. “Arthur,” he greeted, stepping aside to let him in. “How long were you waiting there?”
Arthur at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “I got here about five minutes ago.” He slid his shoes off at the entryway, bending over to line them up with the rest of Merlin’s shoes, but remained standing, hovering by the door. “Uhm…”
It was a far cry from previous visits when he would barge in, haphazardly chuck his shoes off, and make himself comfortable on Merlin’s couch. But he supposed that circumstances were different now.
“Tea? Coffee?” Merlin asked, turning to walk over to his kitchen. “I might have some juice as well. No milk though, you finished that last time, and I haven’t had a chance to replace it yet. Oh, and obviously I have water, if you want—”
“Merlin.” Arthur interrupted, from right behind him. “You’re rambling.”
Merlin realized that he was shaking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was better to rip the band-aid off in one go. He turned around. “I’m not going to apologize for liking you. I’ll apologize for kissing you, because I grossly misread the situation, but I like you and I thought maybe… well,” he grimaced. “I’m happy just being friends. But if it’s too—”
“Merlin, I need you to do me a favor and shut up.” That was the last thing he heard before Arthur was crowding him and then there were two hands cupping his face, pulling him in for a kiss. It was his turn to freeze, but only for a split second, as he gathered enough brainpower to realize he should respond. His hands came up to rest above Arthur’s hips. That touch seemed to open a floodgate, as Arthur began to move forward, forcing Merlin to step back until he was pinned against the wall, lips becoming more insistent.
When they broke apart, Merlin felt like he had just run ten lengths of the soccer field, as he struggled to catch his breath. He searched Arthur’s face, for what, he wasn’t sure. Part of him was still afraid that he was doing this out of some misguided sense of chivalry.
“Wow,” Arthur breathed out, laughing, as he pressed their foreheads together. He looked happy. “That’s been the most effective way of getting you to shut up yet. I’ll have to use that more often in the future.”
Merlin’s heart clenched at the mention of a future. “What… does this make us?”
“Hm?”
“Us?”
“Well, I suppose we’re boyfriends now. You’re stuck with me.” Arthur had a dopey smile on his face.
Merlin shook his head. “That was the most unromantic thing you’ve ever done,” he grumbled, but responded with a grin anyways.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Arthur promised.
And he did, three years later, kneeling in front of a packed stadium and countless cameras, to ask Merlin to marry him.
--
It was Christmas morning. As usual, Mordred and Aithusa had come running into their bedroom as early as they dared, screaming, “Daddy! Papa! Presents!”
Merlin was already awake, sitting up in bed reading. When the two entered, he pressed a finger to his lips, glancing over at his still-snoring husband. The twins scrambled up into the king-sized bed on Merlin’s side. “Papa, presents!” Aithusa said in the hushed whisper-yell that all six-year olds seemed to consider a ‘whisper’. “It’s Christmas!”
“So it is.” He snapped his book shut and placed it on the nightstand. “What do you think Santa brought you this year?” Poor Arthur had drawn the short straw this year and had been responsible for sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night to arrange the presents under the tree and eat all the cookies. Merlin had convinced the kids to leave the milk in the fridge and a note for Santa instead, after several years of lukewarm milk.
“A baby dragon!” Aithusa hugged the stuffed one to her chest. She had been begging for a pet dragon ever since Morgana took them to the sanctuary. Merlin had commissioned a dragon doll that she could ‘take care of’ instead.
“I want an ant farm,” Mordred declared. Somehow, Arthur had been more open to getting a baby dragon than an ant farm. Their son had gotten a telescope from Santa instead.
“How about this. Daddy’s tired. We’ll go downstairs and make some pancakes and then open presents once daddy wakes up, okay?”
The twins pouted in response to his proposal. The lure of presents was apparently greater than pancakes.
Merlin smiled. “Will chocolate chips make it better?”
Their interest was piqued. They looked at each other and then at Merlin with enthusiastic nods.
“All right, go on downstairs. I’ll be right there.” He wanted to make sure to set Arthur’s alarm. He couldn’t be that cruel to his children, after all.
After the twins had eaten, they were sitting on the couch, holding hands, practically vibrating from excitement, discussing with one another which of the presents under the tree they were going to open first. Arthur came down groggily, giving Merlin a quick kiss, before turning to the kids. “Is it presents time already?”
“You’re so slow, daddy!” Mordred whined, to Merlin’s surprise. Aithusa must have been rubbing off on him.
“Okay, okay.” Arthur sat in the armchair that had been moved to make room for the tree and accepted the mug of coffee that Merlin handed him. “Go on then.”
Merlin and Arthur had expected for present opening to be chaotic, but to their surprise, Aithusa was making sure that each person was taking turns opening presents, insisting that it was only fair, making her brother deliver presents to their parents.
Aithusa was ecstatic about her new princess dress from Morgana and Leon, which lit up when she cast a spell on it. She also received a new tiara from Uther (which Merlin thought suspiciously looked like had real gemstones) and a new dollhouse from her parents.
Mordred was delighted in a new fencing foil, with a promise from Arthur to start teaching him. Morgana and Leon had bought him new nature books and a small window garden system (the compromise Arthur had struck for them to not get him an ant farm) and Uther’s gift was a motorized car that he could sit in and drive.
Both children had received new stuffed animals and books from Gwen and Lancelot and to their excitement, Mickey Ears from Hunith for them to wear on their upcoming Disney trip.
“We have two more presents for the both of you.” Merlin said, handing them two small, wrapped packages. They opened them and held up matching red and forest green striped jerseys, “Emrys-Pendragon” emblazoned on the back, with the Dragons’ emblem overlaid on the Knights’ shield emblem. The twins looked confused for a moment, not understanding. They said their requisite ‘thank yous’ and obediently put the shirts on over their pajamas at Merlin’s urging.
“One more present, for both of you.” Arthur reached behind him and pulled out another wrapped package. “Both of you,” he repeated again, as Mordred took the gift, and Aithusa made grabby hands.
They both began to peel back the wrapping paper. A third, matching jersey fell out. It was much smaller than the ones that they had and they looked at one another. “I don’t get it,” Aithusa said.
But then, Mordred gasped, drawing her attention. “Are we… getting a baby brother?” He seemed to be remembering the conversation that Merlin and Arthur had previously with them about whether they would want a new sibling.
At that, Aithusa started bouncing up and down. “Or a baby sister!”
Merlin and Arthur shared a fond glance and nodded. “Your baby sibling will be here in a few months’ time,” Arthur replied.
The kids shrieked again before launching themselves at Arthur, the jerseys forgotten on the floor, babbling about a new baby and how they would be the best big siblings ever. He smiled, tucking them closer to his body, kissing them on the crowns of their heads before releasing them and telling them to go play with their new toys.
As they ran off, he pulled Merlin over and down onto his lap for a slow kiss. “Merry Christmas, my love.” He murmured.
“Merry Christmas, darling,” he replied, with a wide grin. “I can’t wait for the little one to arrive to be our tiebreaker. I foresee another Dragons fan in the future.”
Arthur shook his head, but merely wrapped his arms around Merlin and buried his face against his chest. “You’re horrible,” he said, voice muffled. “But I love you regardless.”
Even if he was going to be horribly outnumbered as a Knights fan.